The Golden Child and the Spawn of a Ferret
by Brittney373
Summary: "Well, well, well. Looks like little Scorpy made himself a friend over Christmas. Who'd have thought - a Malfoy and a Potter, FRIENDS? Someone'll write a book about it for sure - 'The Golden Child and the Spawn of a Ferret'". Set during XMAS second year.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** Okeley doke ... This was just a bit of background first, because I'm a bit pedantic about having character history before just diving right into a fic. So ... I thought I'd start with the main characters' Sortings ... And their thoughts and such. That's all I really had to say. If you feel enthusiastic ... Drop a review and CRITICISE me! :D

**Disclaimer:** Blah ... No copyright infringement intended ... All recognisable characters, locations, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling ... Blah.

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><p>PROLOGUE:<p>

The Sorting

Scorpius Malfoy had known for years that he would be sorted into Slytherin when he finally came to Hogwarts. His father and all of his father's family had been sorted there when they were at school; so it went without saying that he'd wind up there too. He hadn't been agonizing over it like the other first years on the train, or now that they were lined up in front of the entire school and waiting for their Sorting. No, even though his mother had been in Ravenclaw, and she constantly told him that he could be sorted there too, he knew he would be in Slytherin. It was just the way it would turn out. He knew it.

Professor Longbottom called out "Malfoy, Scorpius" and he walked from his position at the edge of the group, up the stone steps and sat on the stool. The Hall broke out in curious whispers when his name was called, and he didn't have to guess why. Before he had the chance to scowl or sneer at any of the startled and expectant faces, however, the old hat was placed on his head and said, "Malfoy, eh?" into his ear. He didn't bother answering, as it was obviously a rhetorical question, and he simply wanted this over and done with, so he could also get the stares and whispers over and done with. "Hmm ... a witty mind, I see," the hat continued. "Yes, witty indeed. A streak of loyalty too ... But the dire thirst to prove yourself ... Yes, I know where you'll do well ... SLYTHERIN!"

No-one apart from a few of the teachers and the Slytherin table clapped. As he walked down the steps, Scorpius could feel the eyes of the Hall on him and hear the hushed discussions; "_Malfoy, _as in, the son of _Draco Malfoy?_" and "Well, he was bound to end up there ... that whole family were slimy snakes ..." were common amongst the older students. Scorpius ignored them, like he did whenever he went out in public with his father, and sat down at the Slytherin table. Just as he'd known for years that he'd be placed in Slytherin, he'd also know for quite some time why people stared and whispered. His father had thought it best for Scorpius to know why before starting at Hogwarts, instead of finding out as a result of someone taunting him. And he was glad for it. He knew that a lot of people wouldn't agree with it; telling an eleven year old boy that you'd once attempted to murder someone, that your family had murdered people ... But Scorpius was grateful that his father had been honest. It wouldn't leave him clueless. He'd rather know why everyone was staring and whispering ... Now he knew to keep to himself, to avoid everyone and simply get on with his school work and hope everyone left him alone.

As Professor Longbottom called out "Nott, Robert", however, an older, thickset boy with a squashed-looking face nudged Scorpius in the ribs and said in a harsh whisper, "So _you're_ the Malfoy boy everyone goes on about. You sure do look like yer dad. My grandfather's told me loads about your family ... You know, back in the day..." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Mulciber, and this here," he indicated to another older and beefy boy on the other side of him, "is Harper."

Scorpius hesitantly shook his hand and immediately regretted it. The boy almost crushed his knuckles – deliberately, he was sure, because he grinned evilly whilst doing it. But Scorpius refused to grimace or wince. His father, too, had warned him about people his family used to 'associate with', as he put it. The Mulciber family was one mentioned, and his father had told him to avoid them at all costs. He could certainly see why ... This boy didn't seem very pleasant at all - he reminded him of his grandfather. Instead of telling him so, however, he smirked back at the boy, releasing his hand. Then he whispered, "Oh, okay. Well, pleasure to meet you, then," and hoped they would leave him alone for the rest of his life. Though, he seriously doubted that would happen. He was about to ask what year the boy was in when the Hall fell silent.

Turning to the front, he saw a small boy with scruffy black hair walking hesitantly to the front of the hall. Ah yes, Albus Potter. His father had pointed him out at the train station earlier today. Everyone in the hall was staring in anticipation, and after a few minutes, the hat bellowed "SLYTHERIN!" and Scorpius was as surprised as anyone. Mulciber beside him had scoffed in shock, "_Potter_, in _Slytherin_? _A Potter?_" Not that he would say so, but Scorpius couldn't help but agree with him. The son of the great Harry Potter in _Slytherin_ – it would be like him being sorted into Gryffindor; absurd. Ah well, he thought, at least he'd have something interesting to write home about other than the dull school routine and his encounter with Mulciber now.

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><p>"<em>Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew... It doesn't matter to us, Al."<em> His father's departing words came flooding back to Albus now that he was standing nervously in the Great Hall, waiting to be sorted. He'd been anxiously pondering his Sorting for the past week, much to James' delight, and up until now he'd been sure he would be placed in Gryffindor. He thought it was the most likely place for him; both his parents had been in Gryffindor, his brother was in Gryffindor, even all of his _grandparents_ had been in Gryffindor. But now he remembered his father's advice, and his parting words. He'd told him that the Sorting Hat took your thoughts into account when deciding which house you would be placed in. When his father had told him that, he'd decided for sure that he'd be placed in Gryffindor – the house of the brave.

But now that it came down to it, now that he was standing amongst his fellow nervous first years, he wasn't so certain. Sure, his whole family had been Gryffindors and Gryffindor was certainly an honourable house to be sorted into. But were the others really that bad? From what he'd heard about the houses, he would fit into any of them quite easily. He was fairly shy and humble enough to be a Hufflepuff; possibly witty enough to be in Ravenclaw, though he doubted it and didn't much like the idea of being sorted there; everyone said they were stuck-up know-it-alls ... Which, apart from Gryffindor, left Slytherin. James had teased him constantly the past few weeks about being sorted there. He'd heard some fellow first years on the train saying that Slytherins were all slimy, sneaking, cowardly gits. Yet, his father had told him that the bravest man he'd ever known was a Slytherin. Which meant that really, it didn't matter which house he was sorted into; he'd still be the same person regardless. And more importantly, if the bravest man his father had _ever_ known had been in Slytherin, then perhaps he could do that man's memory justice by being sorted there and being proud of it. To hell with James and Gryffindor ... Albus would prove him wrong if it was the last thing he did.

"Potter, Albus," said Professor Longbottom loudly.

At first, Albus didn't move; he'd been so deep in thought that he hadn't been paying attention. It was only after his cousin, Rose, gave him a swift nudge in the ribs that he walked nervously toward the front. The mild chatter of the Hall had quieted when his name had been called, and he supposed that it was for the same reason that everyone seemed to stare at him and his family wherever they went. Whatever that reason was, he still didn't know; his father refused to tell him. Though, he was fairly sure James knew and would let it slip eventually. He gingerly walked up the steps to sit on the three-legged stool in front of the four, long house tables. He stared out at a sea of expectant faces before Professor Longbottom carefully placed the Sorting Hat on his small head. It covered his eyes, but he could still feel the expectant stares of the other students upon him, and he wondered again why they all seemed to be holding their breath for the result of his Sorting. Why was his so much more intriguing than anyone else's? His thoughts were once again interrupted, however, by a small voice in his ear.

"Another Potter, eh?" Albus wasn't sure whether or not he should answer, or whether or not the entire school could hear what was being said by the hat or if it was just in his head. When he simply waited, the hat continued with its musings. "A difficult one; like your father. A generous amount of wit, I see. Plenty of courage too, and oh! A kind and loyal heart, oh yes, but yet – the overwhelming desire to prove yourself ... But _where should I put you_? Hmm, very much like your father, indeed."

Albus went stiff; hoping what his dad had told him was true. He desperately chanted in his head, "Slytherin, please, please ... Slytherin. Not Gryffindor, please, Slytherin."

At this the small voice made a surprised noise in his ear. "_Not_ Gryffindor, eh? How very curious. Well, I suppose if you're sure ... SLYTHERIN!"

Albus knew the hat had shouted the last word out to the entire Hall, and as he removed it from his head his gaze fell upon many shocked faces. Professor Longbottom was looking down at him, equally shocked as he took the hat back and stammered when calling "Powell, Josephine" to the front. Albus quietly made his way to the Slytherin table with a small smile on his face. He avoided the gazes that followed him; taking particular care to avoid looking at the Gryffindor table, where he knew James and the others would be looking at him, shocked and possibly appalled. Once he reached the Slytherin table, he took a seat on the end next to the small, skinny, brown-haired boy who'd been sorted before him. The boy smiled at him gingerly, so he stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Albus Potter."

When the boy continued to look at him hesitantly, he smiled encouragingly. The boy then shook his hand with another nervous smile and mumbled something that was drowned out by the cheer following the announcement of Josephine Powell being sorted into Hufflepuff. Albus released his hand. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

The boy smiled timidly again. "I said," he mumbled in his small voice, "I'm Robert Nott, but you can just call me Rob."

Albus grinned; he had a feeling Robert Nott was nothing like the Slytherins his brother had described. He couldn't wait to prove James wrong about his new house. "Well, Rob, it's nice to meet you."

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><p>Rose watched on as Albus, who for the entire day had been dreading being sorted into Slytherin, was sorted into Slytherin. When he removed the Sorting Hat from his head, she was quite surprised to see him smiling, if not grinning. She had no idea why. She was certain that he'd be placed in Gryffindor, just like James and almost everyone else in the family. And when he wasn't she was just as certain that he'd be devastated. He must've changed his mind ... And she remembered now seeing her Uncle Harry talking to him back at the train station; he must've told Albus something about Slytherin that no-one else knew for him to be so carefree about being placed there now.<p>

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, returning her attention to the Sorting. They were in the "T's" now. She, like Albus, had been worrying herself all day about where she'd be sorted. She knew that she absolutely did not want to end up in Slytherin, regardless of what secret knowledge her Uncle Harry might or might not have told Albus. She thought that Hufflepuff would be alright; her mother had told her that it was the house of the kind, hard-working and loyal, all things she prided herself in being. But her choices seemed to always boil back down to two: Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

She knew that her father desperately wanted her to be sorted into Gryffindor as both he and his parents had been. But, the more she thought about it, the more it worried her. She was much more studious and witty than she was brave or chivalrous, and this is what bothered her. Her dad's teasing words came back to her now, _"If you're not in Gryffindor we'll disinherit you, but no pressure." _She knew, as her mum had told her this morning on the platform, that he didn't really mean it. But she couldn't help feeling terrified at the thought of disappointing him, which she knew would happen if she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor ... even if he didn't say so.

"Weasley, Rose," Professor Longbottom called. And Rose realised that she'd just missed her cousins' Sortings. She walked toward the front nervously; this was it, her defining moment. Would she be a disappointment?

She sat down on the stool. The old hat fell over her eyes, and she was glad for it, that way she wouldn't have to look out at all those expectant faces.

"Ha!" cried a voice in her ear that she supposed was the hat, "_Another_ Weasley! Hmm, loyal and fair I see, yes, a fair amount of courage, too. Oh, but the thirst for knowledge ... Such wit! Yes, I know exactly what to do with you ... RAVENCLAW!"

The Hall erupted into polite applause as Rose made her way to the Ravenclaw table, a little unsteady on her feet. Her father would disown her. She'd no longer be his little Rosie, instead she'd be the first person in their family (excluding her Uncle Percy's daughter Molly) to be sorted into a house that wasn't Gryffindor. She'd broken Weasley tradition.

She sat down cautiously at the end of Ravenclaw table, and listened in as Professor McGonagall welcomed the first years to Hogwarts, and the older students back. Soon after her welcome, the feast began, and food appeared on a plate in front of Rose. Before she could think about tucking in to her roast beef and vegetables, however, the girl beside her had started talking. Rose looked up, a little regretfully from her plate (her dad had told her how good the food at Hogwarts was and she was most eager to try it) and into the bright and excited almond-shaped eyes of the girl next to her. The girl was smiling at her radiantly. In fact, everything about her seemed radiant; her smooth olive skin, her straight white teeth in that wide smile – even her shiny dark hair, which fell elegantly in ringlets to her shoulders, seemed to bounce with enthusiasm as she spoke.

"Hi! I'm Aimee Traverston; it's a pleasure to meet you."

Rose knew this already, as the girl had been sorted before she had, but she didn't tell her that, as it would be rude. Instead, she smiled back politely. "I'm Rose, Rose Weasley." When the girl seemed at a loss for something to say, Rose asked, "Were your parents in Ravenclaw too?"

Aimee shook her head - her curls bouncing again. "Oh, no ... My parents are ... What do you call them ... Muggles? We were all so excited when I got my letter! I'm afraid we thought it was a bit of a practical joke at first."

She giggled, and Rose couldn't help but laugh along with her. It was fascinating enough to see Hogwarts for the first time; she couldn't imagine what it would be like for those from Muggle families ... It must be very overwhelming. When they calmed from laughing, Aimee asked, "What about you? Were your parents in Ravenclaw as well? Or are you from a normal family too?"

Rose laughed at her 'normal family' comment. "No. I'm from a wizarding family, but my mum is a Muggleborn. And no, neither of my parents were in Ravenclaw, though I'm sure Mum could have been; she's incredibly smart."

Aimee kept on smiling and Rose wondered whether or not her cheeks were beginning to hurt from keeping her face like that for so long. "Oh, so what houses were they in then?" she asked eagerly. Then, seeming to think it may have been a nosy thing to ask, added, "I mean, I don't mean to pry, but it's just ... everything's so new to me ..."

Rose laughed again; she liked Aimee. She was really easy to talk to and so happy; Rose didn't think it was possible to dislike her. "It's fine, really," she replied. "Both my parents were in Gryffindor. Dad wanted me to be sorted there ... Told me he'd disinherit me if I was sorted otherwise," she finished glumly. Then, seeing the look of utter disbelief and shock on Aimee's face, laughed, "He was only joking, though! Well ... I hope he was."

And she did. She knew he'd be disappointed that she wasn't in Gryffindor like he had been, but Rose figured that her dad would be proud of her anyway. And besides, there wasn't much he could do about it; she was obviously just too smart to be brave.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note:** Chapter One! Just to make things clear: Albus, Rose, Robert Nott, Scorpius, Louis and Freddie are all in their second year. Dominique is in fifth year, whilst both James and Molly are in third year. That's about it from me. Not much to say ... Let me know if you like/hate it. :D

*Not going to bother with a disclaimer at the start of each chapter - See Prologue if you're really desperate to know that I've got one. (Pretty sure no-one's that desperate.) :P

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><p>CHAPTER ONE<p>

Albus Potter made his way elatedly toward the Great Hall for breakfast. In two days, the Christmas holidays began, and he was looking forward to spending it at The Burrow with his family. He had planned on inviting his best friend and fellow second year, Robert Nott, who was also at first a reluctant Slytherin, but Rob's family apparently had prior arrangements to visit France or somewhere abroad. Albus didn't mind too much, as he would be with his family, and if anything they always proved to be entertaining.

As he entered the Great Hall he heard someone shouting his name. He immediately recognised the voice as his brother, James'. Glancing leisurely toward the Gryffindor table opposite of where he was headed, sure enough, Albus saw James standing and aggressively beckoning him, whilst a group of red-heads around him looked on. Diverting from his course with an apologetic look at Rob, who was waiting for him at the Slytherin table, Albus made his way over to the group. When he arrived he was surprised to find their faces solemn.

Freddie, his Uncle George's only son; Louis, the sole pale-haired boy amongst them and his Uncle Bill's youngest; and James; together the liveliest and most humorous of the family, all wore masks fitting for a funeral. Albus chanced a glimpse at the remainder of the Weasleys. Rose, who was his absolute favourite cousin, was imitating the sober expressions of her cousins. Looking to her left he spotted Molly, his Uncle Percy's daughter, and Dominique, Louis' older sister, who were both looking up at him with sad faces. Albus immediately felt his stomach drop as he sat down gingerly to the right of Rose. Something terrible had happened to someone. That must be it. Why else would his entire family be congregated at the Gryffindor table? But if that was it, then why weren't they crying?

Albus cleared his throat, which was dry with dreadful anticipation. "Nothing's happened to anyone has it? Is everyone okay? Is it Da–?"

James cut him off with a condescending frown and irritated tone, "No, you git. Everyone's fine. Nothing's happened. Dad's fine. Don't you worry your scruffy little head about it."

"Well, why did you call me over here, then?" he asked defiantly.

"_Because_," Dominique, being the eldest, a fifth year, interjected in an authoritative tone, "_our bloody parents_ have decided that we aren't going home for Christmas this year."

Since when did his parents, _any_ of their parents for that matter, refuse to have them home for Christmas and miss out on a visit to The Burrow? ... James and Freddie must've done something, and they were all being punished for it...

"But ... why?" he asked stupidly.

"Well," it was Freddie who spoke now, "the bottom line is – your parents, after a year and a half of tolerance and careful consideration, have disowned you because you're in Slytherin; Rose's have disowned her because she's in Ravenclaw, Molly's likewise (you know what Uncle Percy's like), and the rest of us, well, we associate with you, don't we? So our parents have now disowned us for being around the pathetic excuses for Weasleys and the slithering little Slytherin Potter."

Albus sighed. Freddie just never knew when to be serious. Admittedly neither did James or Louis, who were both sniggering beside their cousin. He took this to mean that it wasn't for any horrible reason that they weren't going home for Christmas.

Albus turned to Rose, whose slightly freckled face and earthy brown eyes mirrored his exasperation. "What's the real reason?"

Rose didn't tell him; instead, she pushed a crumpled letter from the centre of the table to the place in front of him.

Albus reached for the letter, and was taken aback to see the greeting: _Children_. It was obvious that his Uncle Percy had taken the liberty of starting the letter.

_Christmas at The Burrow, as you all know, has become something of a Weasley tradition. This year, however, it will be necessary for you to remain at Hogwarts for the two-week Christmas holiday. It has already been arranged with the headmaster, so you need not appeal to him for a change of plans – he is much too busy to be dealing with such trivial things as the complaints of students' holiday arrangements. _

At this point, the writing became neater, and decidedly feminine, and judging by the next sentence, Albus hazarded a guess that his Aunt Hermione had taken over ... making it seem more like a letter and less like a Ministry report.

_Our good friend Luna Scamander (she sends you all presents every Christmas) has invited us to visit her whilst she is on one of her trips abroad, searching for Nargles. Now, we know how you feel about Nargles and Luna's work, but we haven't seen her in at least five years. And seeing how it's also the twentieth anniversary of The Battle of Hogwarts, we thought it would be nice if we all went for a holiday to commemorate it somehow. Yes, yes, we know there'll be a service at Hogwarts in May, but we'd love to visit Luna, and the Thomas', Finnigans and Longbottoms are also going._

_Anyway, you'll be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas this year and the younger ones will be staying at The Burrow with your grandparents. And no, we will not burden them with caring for the lot of you – that is simply asking too much._

The handwriting changed again, it was messier and oddly familiar – Albus recognised it as his mother's_. _

_Now; James, Freddie and Louis, do _not_ get into any trouble, or Howlers _will_ be sent! Not to mention you will receive no Christmas presents this year. Dominique, make sure they don't get up to any mischief!_

_Anyway, we love you all and will send separate letters at Christmas with your presents._

_Have fun and _behave.

_Love,_

_Your parents. _

Albus stared at the letter. They had to stay at Hogwarts this year. Hardly anyone stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas. He supposed it wouldn't be that bad. Sure, they wouldn't get to go to The Burrow and see the _entire_ family, but it wasn't as though they would be completely alone for Christmas. Most of their family was currently attending Hogwarts anyway – and no parents or Uncle Percy badgering them about holiday homework was always an upside, though, he would miss his Uncle George's antics. And he'd also miss out on seeing Teddy ... Then something occurred to him.

"Why did they only send one letter?" when no-one answered, he added, "But, I don't get it, why do you all look so glum? It's only one time. It's not the end of the world."

Albus glanced around at everyone. That was when he saw Rose's lips twitch. He quickly averted his eyes to Freddie, James and Louis to see that they were holding back laughter.

"What's so funny? How is what I said funny?"

Dominique, ever the mature one, explained yet again, though with a grin on her face. "It was their idea," she pointed accusatorily at James, Freddie and Louis, "they decided it would be funny to watch you squirm as you thought something bad had happened."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Right ... I s'pose I should've guess it was something like that."

James, Freddie and Louis released their held back laughter now, slapping the table and revelling in their own apparent cleverness. Their laughter was broken, however, by the arrival of Alice Longbottom, a petite girl with a round and kind face, who was Dominique's best friend. She sat down at the table, looking glum. "I've just come from dad's office; he told me about the parents' little trip to see the Scamanders ... I s'pose you lot are staying here for Christmas too, then?" Everyone nodded solemnly. "I really wouldn't have minded going," she continued, speaking more to Dominique than anyone else, "I mean, I know Luna's a bit ... odd ... but they're going abroad! _Abroad!_ I guess staying here beats going home and helping mum out at the pub, though ..."

Albus lost interest now and glanced over his shoulder at the Slytherin table. Across the Hall, he could see Rob sitting by himself, moodily poking at his food and attempting desperately to ignore the obvious taunts from two fourth year Slytherins, who were sitting a few seats up across the Slytherin table, on either side of Scorpius Malfoy.

"Er, guys?" Everyone looked at Albus now, ceasing their chatter. "I'd better go save poor Rob before Malfoy and his cronies zero in on him."

James frowned, glaring over at the Slytherin table. "That Malfoy git picks on his _own_ house mates?" he asked heatedly.

Albus couldn't ever recall _actually_ seeing Scorpius Malfoy pick on Rob, but he knew that two of his friends (the fourth years) Laurence Mulciber and Dustin Harper had, on various occasions, taunted both Rob and himself. Now that he came to think of it, he didn't even know if Malfoy _was_ friends with them, but they always seemed to be hanging around him, so he'd figured as much.

"Not that I know of ... It's his friends, Mulciber and Harper, who pick on people. They pick on Rob because his grandfather was a Death Eater, you know. Bit rich; seeing how so was Mulciber's, but I guess that's Slytherins for you."

No-one laughed, and Albus realised what he'd said. _He _was a Slytherin. It was still a bit of a touchy subject with some of them ... particularly with James. He quickly continued. "Anyway, like I said, don't worry about it. Rob and I can handle it. They won't do anything with ole Rushworth watching." He jerked his head, indicating the headmaster who'd taken over this year, after McGonagall had finally decided to retire. Ignoring James' indignant expression, he glanced at Freddie, Louis, Aidan Finnigan and Landon Thomas; who'd just joined their fellow Gryffindors for breakfast. "I'll see you lot in Charms. See the rest of you around, I s'pose."

With a wave over his head at his family, Albus made his way over to his best friend, who was still sitting alone at the Slytherin table. He had become friends with Robert Nott almost immediately after being sorted into Slytherin. They had both seemed to be rejected in a way. Robert was considerably small, introverted, and rather meek, which often made Albus wonder why he had not been placed in Hufflepuff. When he'd smiled timidly at Albus as he sat next to him, Al had just _known_ that he was kind and loyal, and had immediately decided that he would befriend the boy. Albus, on the other hand, had not initially known why he had been so rejected in Slytherin.

Perhaps rejected wasn't the right word, it was more that he had been avoided. At first, he hadn't known why. The same way he hadn't known why everyone had stared at his father at platform nine and three quarters. Then, after a week of being avoided by his fellow first year Slytherins, he'd plucked up the courage and asked Rob if he knew why everyone stared at him but didn't approach him. That was when he'd found out about his parents, about his Aunt Hermione and his Uncle Ron, and the legendry tale that accompanied their names. Rob had explained to him just how famous his parents were and how they were a household name to most. Well, he'd already known why his mother was famous – she'd been a Chaser for the Harpies for several years, and he'd been with her a fair few times when she'd been asked for autographs. But he'd never quite known why his father, who was Head of the Auror Department at the Ministry, was so famous ... he was only a Ministry worker, lots of people worked at the Ministry.

Rob had then repeated to him all he'd ever read about the Battle of Hogwarts and the Second War in his history books ... and Albus finally understood why his father received so many stares. Rob also concluded that the fact that Albus looked exactly like his dad was probably why _he_ got so many stares. He'd then suggested that perhaps everyone avoided him because it was surprising to most that the son of Harry Potter, perhaps the most famous Gryffindor aside from Dumbledore or Godric himself, was placed in what most considered to be the least honourable house of Hogwarts. Albus had eagerly taken in all the information his new friend could supply ... Then he'd written a rather frustrated and angry letter to his parents, demanding to know why they hadn't ever told him any of this. The reply he received was to be expected ... "We wanted you to make your own choices ... wanted you to discover things on your own ..." Looking back on it he supposed they were right, but at the time, he'd thought a bit of a head's up on the staring and avoidance would've been nice.

People had eventually overcome the initial surprise and awe of the situation, yet no-one seemed to genuinely desire his friendship; no-one aside from Robert Nott. Al had then decided that one good, sincere and loyal friend was better than a whole bunch of wary or awestruck friends. He'd written to his dad (as he usually did when something troubled him) about Rob and the other students, and he'd agreed with his conclusion – that was enough for Albus. Since, he and Rob had never felt the need to befriend a great deal of fellow Slytherins. It wasn't that they were rejected anymore, as they did, on occasion, talk to a few of the other boys; it was more that they liked to keep to themselves, and besides that, the Weasley-Potter brood was enough friends for anyone.

Albus' thoughts were broken as he reached the Slytherin table. The two boys who had previously been taunting Rob had now disappeared, but Scorpius Malfoy remained. With a fleeting glance at the pale-haired boy, Albus sat down across the table from his best friend.

"Hey Rob. Were Mulciber and Harper bothering you again?"

He didn't look up from his food, and instead simply shook his head in response.

This worried Albus. Rob was a timid boy, but he was never so quiet around him, he usually always had something to discuss, whether it be Quidditch or school work, even the weather.

"What's going on? I know you're a quiet person, but not _this_ quiet." The boy across from him simply shook his head again, and Albus became increasingly concerned. "Rob, I'm serious. You better answer me, or I'm going to go get James and Freddie, and you _know_ they won't leave you alone until you spit out whatever it is that's bothering you." Albus knew his threat had succeeded, for even though they had been cautious and a little disapproving at first, his cousins had accepted Rob as his friend, and treated him with kindness and respect (well, for their standards, anyway). Finally, the small brown-haired boy looked up at Albus with his solemn, pale brown eyes.

"It's nothing really. It wasn't Mulciber and Harper; I know you saw them over here. But I swear it's nothing I can't handle."

Albus' brow furrowed. "Then what's bothering you, mate? I know something's up, I _am_ your best friend, you know."

Rob laughed weakly then sighed. "My parents are going to visit my Aunt Violetta in France, she isn't well. They won't let me go with them."

Albus' heart dropped. Rob's Aunt Violetta was his favourite Aunt, like a second mother to him. If she was ill, he'd want to see her. "How come? Why won't they let you go?"

Rob rolled his eyes. "They reckon I'll have a breakdown or something, seeing her ill. Dunno why ... I mean, if she's _that_ ill, I want to see her, just in case ... you know ... They won't budge, though. I'm not going. Which means, seeing how mother's parents are dead, I can't go stay with them. My father's parents are estranged from us, so I can't go stay with them. Normally I'd go stay with Aunt Violetta, but obviously that's out of the question. So I have to spend the Christmas holidays here, worrying about my Aunt by myself," he sighed and looked up from his plate to Al's sympathetic face. "I'm sorry for telling you all of this, Al. I'm not trying to ask if I can stay at your place or anything. It's just, you asked what was wrong."

Albus blanched, he couldn't believe his best friend was wary about asking to stay with him for Christmas!

"Rob, of course you can stay with us! You don't even have to ask, you git!"

Rob's face brightened immediately and Albus knew that he still didn't feel accepted by his family. "Really? I could? I mean, your grandparents wouldn't mind me going to The Burrow with you?"

That was when Albus remembered. He wasn't going to The Burrow for Christmas this year.

"Oh, Rob, I'm sorry ... You can't," seeing his friend's face fall he hastened to add, "I mean, it's not that you're not welcome ... it's just that, we aren't even going to The Burrow this Christmas."

Rob was curious now. "Really? How come? I thought it was a tradition or something."

Al laughed. "Yeah, it is. But this year our parents are having some twentieth year commemoration for the Battle of Hogwarts with the Scamanders. And when I say our parents, I mean, _all_ Weasley and Potter children. So, we're staying here for Christmas as well ...Sorry."

Rob's face lit up once more. "Why are you apologising? It means we can still hang out over Christmas! I won't be a loner!"

Albus laughed. It definitely wouldn't be the worst Christmas ever ... not with a near empty castle and his best friend to keep him company. In fact, he was sure that with all the family (especially James, Freddie and Louis) in the castle, it would prove to be a rather interesting Christmas.


	3. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: **Thankyou to my one reviewer. I appreciate it. :D To the rest of you lot - Enjoy chapter two! (Let me know if it's pointless continuing this story ...)

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><p>CHAPTER TWO<p>

Scorpius Malfoy had never dreaded the Christmas holidays more than he had now. Last year, he'd returned to Malfoy Manor for the two-week holiday, and it had been fine. Just him and his parents, celebrating quietly in the large old place; his father had told him that his grandparents, Lucius and Narcissa, had moved from the manor before he was born. He never did spend much time with them, but this didn't worry him much. His grandfather was cold and stern, and he never felt at ease in his presence; he felt as though he was always being judged, as though he were being measured up constantly. No matter what he did, his grandfather always seemed to find fault in it, to correct him somehow. His grandmother, however, he loved very much; she had always been affectionate and loving toward him. He supposed it had something to do with his likeness to his father ... perhaps she missed her son. Whatever the reason, he was glad for it. Otherwise, visits with his grandparents would be altogether unpleasant.

Christmas this year was to be held at his grandparents' home in the country, and his father, knowing he didn't enjoy it immensely, had asked if he'd prefer to remain at Hogwarts. Scorpius had readily replied 'yes'. He knew that not many students stayed over the Christmas holidays and he figured he'd enjoy the solitude. An empty castle would allow him more time in the library, without the awkward stares he usually received from older students, and more significantly, without the harassment of Dustin Harper and Laurence Mulciber. His father had warned him about certain people before starting at Hogwarts; he'd told him the truth about his past, about what he'd done ... what Grandfather Lucius had done. He'd wanted him to be prepared for the insults, for the stares, and for the taunting, should it occur.

And it had indeed occurred. Mostly it was older students, who'd learnt from various sources the nature of his family's past, but there were some younger students, even in his own year – who he supposed had been told by siblings, or had simply read about it – that taunted him or gave him disgusted looks. But he didn't retaliate. That was one thing his father had told him – don't rise to the challenge. It wasn't cowardly, it was smart. He knew that the perfect way to rile a bully was to remain ignorant of their taunts, to act as though it didn't bother you, and to keep to your own business. And for the past year and a half, Scorpius had done so, with certain success, he thought.

Initially, Harper and Mulciber had wanted to befriend him, these were two of the people his father had warned him about, so it was with caution that he'd agreed to their company whilst in the Common Room and at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. After three weeks of such company, however, Scorpius realised that they would only be trouble. One too many times he had heard them speaking the same blood-status rubbish that his mother scolded his grandfather for. His mother had always reminded him that blood had nothing to do with neither the abilities nor the personal character of a wizard.

Taking his mother's advice in his stride, he had shrunk back into the shell he'd initially intended to stay in whilst at Hogwarts and ignored the older Slytherin boys. He went everywhere alone, sat by himself at all meals and in class. He studied alone, and despite sharing a dormitory, he rarely spoke to his dorm-mates. It was then, after he'd starting ignoring them, that they had started taunting him. At least three times a week he'd be harassed by Harper and Mulciber about his family, calling them blood-traitors. Mulciber in particular was rather nasty, often bitterly scorning Scorpius' grandfather because he'd had the wealth to avoid being sent to Azkaban, whilst Mulciber's had not. He'd also beat him up a few times, just for good measure. But Scorpius never told anyone - not even his father - that would mean that Mulciber had won, and he didn't want to give the boy another reason to pick on him. No-one seemed to notice though, no-one except for Marcus Zabini, perhaps. He was the closest Scorpius had to a friend. He only spoke to him occasionally, as they shared a dorm, but they'd never exactly been best friends. Scorpius preferred solitude; it was his escape from reality. That was also his reason for reading and being so immersed in school work, it kept him busy and distracted him from the stares and whispers.

So, Christmas in an empty Hogwarts, he had thought, would be perfect. That was until he'd sat down for breakfast this morning. He'd once again been harassed by Harper and Mulciber, but with the knowledge that they'd be gone for two weeks, he 'd found ignoring them even easier than usual, and this had lifted his spirits ... until Albus Potter had sat down with Robert Nott. He was rather indifferent toward both of them; his father had told him to be careful around Potter and the many Weasleys, as they may taunt him due to an old school rivalry between their parents ... but in the whole time he'd been at Hogwarts, Potter had never spoken a word to him that wasn't civilly school-related. For this, Scorpius was grateful. Potter himself seemed to like solitude as well, and Scorpius couldn't really blame him, as people whispered behind his back more than they ever did about Scorpius – he was Harry Potter's son. He was the son of The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One ... saviour of the wizarding world and all that jazz. Not only that, he was like a physical replica of his father, much like Scorpius was his, and he imagined that this didn't help the Potter boy avoid stares either. Robert Nott, on the other hand, he'd never paid much mind to. He rarely spoke in class, or in the Common Room for that matter. But, Scorpius did know that he was best friends with Potter, as wherever Potter was, there was sure to be Robert Nott – the golden boy and his own little sidekick.

He'd been sitting near them at breakfast, and couldn't help but overhear their conversation. They were both to remain at Hogwarts for Christmas. The _entire_ Weasley-Potter family was going to be staying. Usually, Scorpius wouldn't have cared – they didn't taunt him, in fact, they left him well alone most of the time ... it was more the fact that they'd all be sitting together at meals, whilst Scorpius was likely to stick out like a sore thumb at the Slytherin table by himself ... something he dreaded immensely. It wasn't that he cared about being alone, he was perfectly fine with it ... it was more being noticed and pitied that worried him ... He hated being pitied. The few people that had tried to befriend him had done so out of pity, and it was for this reason that he'd ignored them, forced them to see he didn't want or need such friendships. They thought it was kind, pitying him, but he didn't ... it made him feel worthless. It made him feel like a lost dog in a crowded street, starving and begging for food. Sure, he may want to be seen as different to his father, as his own individual with his own thoughts, differing from the old ways, but he didn't want to beg for it ... He didn't want people pitying him because of his last name. He was a Malfoy, and he was proud of it.

Yes, he dreaded the Christmas holidays, when he'd no longer be able to hide amongst the crowds. He'd be noticed and he'd be pitied, but he figured that was better than a visit with his grandfather. As he left the Charms classroom, Scorpius resolved to go to all meals early during the holidays and spend as much time in the library as possible. If there was one thing he knew about the Weasleys and Potters, it was that they were never on time for anything and they were practically allergic to the library ... Perhaps if he was lucky they'd not even know he'd stayed for the holidays.


	4. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:** Well, here's chapter three. I decided to throw in a bit of Rose's POV … Just to get another perspective of Scorpius in there (and because I like her temper) … But I'm afraid she kind of took over. Ah well … Shit happens. :P Regardless of shit happening, ENJOY! I do hope it's a satisfactory update and doesn't just seem like I'm rambling on. :D

p.s. Thankyou again to my reviewers (and anyone who reads this!) ... Thanks to RandomReviewer ... whoever you may be! I appreciate you taking the time to review! (I say this here because I can't reply to your review.) :P

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><p>CHAPTER THREE<p>

Thursday mornings were the worst, even more so when one took into account the fact that it was the last day of lessons before the Christmas holidays. Albus voiced this opinion for the umpteenth time that morning.

"_I know_, Al," said Rob, as they ambled down the first floor corridor, "But ... it could be worse."

"How? What could possibly be worse than a double History of Magic lesson to start the _last_ _day_?"

"A double History of Magic lesson to _end _the last day," Rob replied swiftly.

"I suppose you're right," Al grumbled, side-stepping a burly fifth year as they came to a halt outside the classroom.

As they waited for the rest of the class to arrive, Albus couldn't help but notice that Malfoy was by himself again. Usually it wouldn't have fazed him at all ... but he thought the boy looked exceptionally grumpy considering it was the last day of school. Sure, History of Magic was dull and a complete waste of time, but it wasn't _that_ bad. He wondered what could possibly have him scowling that much.

The door opened and Professor Binns offered the class his usual dreary greeting before they entered as if they were all headed for the gallows. For most of the lesson, Albus paid no attention to what Binns was droning on about. He never did – usually he copied Rob's notes later on, when he had some spare time. Instead, he took to gazing blankly around the classroom and had to stifle a laugh when he saw that Josephine Lavount, a Ravenclaw girl, had her hand straight up in the air – he knew she'd never get noticed with Binns up there immersed in his blackboard notes about goblins or elves or whatever else it was he was writing about. She was persistent, however, and after a good five minutes with her hand in the air and Binns' complete inattention to her, she made a little noise in the back of her throat before speaking. "Professor Binns," she said, and he turned to look at her now, "why is it that we don't learn any recent history?"

Albus could tell that the professor was annoyed that he'd been interrupted by such a question, and he was having trouble not laughing at the expression on his teacher's face.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Lavount? We are, at this present time, learning about the nineteenth century classification of 'beasts' and 'beings'. In terms of history, is that not recent?"

Lavount looked a little abashed, but continued nonetheless, much to Albus' horror. "Well ... yes, sir ... _Of course it is_. But what I _meant_ was ... Will we ever learn about the murder of Albus Dumbledore, the Battle of Hogwarts, the Second War and the victory of Harry Potter over the Dark Lord … All _that_ kind of stuff?"

Albus immediately shrunk down in his seat; as he'd expected they would, the entire class had turned around in their seats, some craning their necks to stare at him. His ears turned pink and his face grew hot, and he wished for the millionth time in his life that his dad wasn't famous. As the Ravenclaw girl continued, however, going on to mention the fall of the old pureblood wizarding families "such as the Malfoys" (as she oh-so-delicately pointed out), the class turned in their seats once more, craning their necks to look at someone else – Scorpius Malfoy.

The pale boy mimicked Albus' own actions – shrinking into his seat with a scowl on his face in a vain attempt to avoid the stares. Albus felt sympathy for him. He knew how annoying it was to have people stare and whisper because his family was famous – famous for being 'the good guys'. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like to have people whisper and stare out of disgust and dislike. Perhaps _that_ was why he looked so grumpy this morning ... Perhaps he was simply sick of the stares and whispers; Albus had heard the things people said about the Malfoys and it was never pleasant. Even his Uncle Ron said nasty things about them sometimes, only to be scolded by his Aunt Hermione, of course. But perhaps that was why Malfoy _always_ sat alone as well. Rob, Scorpius and Albus, along with Marcus Zabini and Duncan Atwell, all shared a dormitory and Scorpius _never_ spoke to any of them… except for Zabini, and that was only occasionally. To Albus, it seemed as though Malfoy thought that ignoring everyone was the easiest way to avoid whispers and stares. He was inclined to agree. Though, he figured it must be awfully lonely being by yourself all the time ... especially with the likes of Mulciber and Harper as your only friends.

He decided he'd make an effort to talk to Malfoy after the Christmas holidays; after all, he'd never said anything cruel or remotely rude to Albus. He turned his attention back to the lesson in time to hear Professor Binns becoming very frustrated with Josephine Lavount. He didn't think he'd ever heard so much expression in the old professor's voice before.

"I've already told you _why_, Miss Lavount. The era of the Second War is _not_ a part of the Hogwarts curriculum, and that's that! If you'd like to debate the issue, make a visit to the headmaster. Otherwise, I suggest that if you care to learn more about it, take a trip to the library. I'm certain there are numerous satisfactory texts detailing it there. Now," he said, the expression vanishing from his voice as quickly as it'd come, "if you would allow me to continue with the _lesson_ ..."

Albus had tuned out once more. For once, he was glad that Professor Binns was a stickler for _old_ history. Though, he wasn't willing to agree with Binns that Josephine Lavount needed to take that visit to the library – from the way she spoke about the Second War, it was obvious that she already had.

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><p>Rose simply couldn't believe the cheek of that girl! It was bad enough having to share a dormitory with her … She always asked Rose stupid questions: how often she saw her Uncle Harry, whether or not it was true that her mum had <em>'mudblood'<em> scarred on her arm, if it was true that her Uncle Harry really did own the sword of Gryffindor and an Invisibility Cloak, and her _least _favourite of all; Lavount found it necessary to ask, at least once a week, whether or not she was the secret love-child of her dad and a woman named Lavender Brown. And now, _now_ that prissy know-it-all had the cheek to bring up the Second War and Rose's family _in class! _She could've slapped her. And then, to top it off, she'd gone ahead and mentioned the Malfoys. Rose knew that her dad often bad-mouthed the family, but that was different, that was because he'd lived in a time in which the Malfoys were the enemy. But she also knew that they'd changed, that Draco Malfoy had renounced the old ways and that his wife had sorted him out … Well, that's what her mum and Granddad Weasley had said anyway, and they were usually right about such things.

On top of all that, Rose simply hated Josephine Lavount. She was the most horrible girl – if she didn't get her own way she was bound to cause a fuss, she thought she was the next best thing since the invention of the Nimbus racing broom and she thought she knew absolutely _everything_ (earning her the rather catching nickname 'Knowsie-Josie')_._ Well, Rose had news for her. Last year Josephine had beat her in three of their end of year exams, and ever since they'd been back at school this year, she'd been rubbing it in her face. Rose was more determined than ever to top _all _her classes now. That was why, as soon as their History of Magic lesson ended, Rose swept out of the classroom and made her way to the library. Her best friends, Aimee Traverston (who'd soon overcome her first year desire to know _everything _about the wizarding world when she'd realised just _how much_ there was to know), Michael Boland and Brian Goldsmith, knowing how determined she was to top everything this year, followed her without hesitation. Rose was glad for it … She could use the company right now, as she was still fuming about Lavount and was bound to bite someone's head off if no-one was there to stop her.

Rose's cousins (namely James and Freddie), had been extremely overprotective of her when they'd realised that she'd befriended two boys during her first year. They seemed to think that she should just stick to being friends with Aimee and the other girls in her dorm and couldn't understand why she didn't. They'd soon come round, however, when she'd explained that she liked hanging around boys because she was used to hanging around them – James, Freddie, Louis and Albus. Also, she figured that Michael and Brian's obsession with Quidditch might've had something to do with it. Nevertheless, she was glad they'd all been able to get along, because it made her life a whole lot easier now, especially when her dorm-mates were the likes of Josephine Lavount and her two minions; Gracie Turpin and Marie Trimble.

"Oi," said Michael, as they passed Freddie and Louis along the Charms corridor, "Me and Brian are gonna go get some lunch; we'll see you girls in Transfiguration." With that, the boys dropped off to catch up with her cousins.

"Pfft," Aimee scoffed, "Who do they think they're fooling? They both know that _we_ know they're going to talk about Quidditch with your cousins."

"I know … _Boys!_" Rose huffed, out of both annoyance and exhaustion, as they climbed the marble staircase to the fourth floor.

To Rose's great pleasure, the library was quiet and almost completely empty; most people were either in the Great Hall eating or out in the grounds for first break. She and Aimee made a beeline for the back; it was the prime spot in the library – out of sight of the old librarian and out of sight of the other students. As Rose headed along the rows to her favourite table, however, she saw that it was already occupied – by Scorpius Malfoy.

"Rose, let's just sit here," Aimee whispered, indicating the table nearest to them.

"Yeah, okay …" she said, placing her books on the desk and sitting down. After about five minutes of studying in silence, Rose was still fired up about Lavount in History of Magic. She looked up and saw Malfoy again, still sitting alone and reading. She suddenly felt a surge of pity for him. "Hey, Aimee," she whispered to her friend. "I'm going to go talk to Malfoy. I'll be back in a minute. Okay?"

"_What?_" came her friend's incredulous reply. "Why, in the name of all things holy, would you want to do _that_?"

"_Because_," she whispered, annoyed, "I feel sorry for him … The way Lavount just blatantly pointed out that his family were on the Dark side in the Second War in class earlier …"

"Aha!" Aimee whispered back, "I knew this'd have something to do with Knowsie-Josie!" She giggled, shooing Rose, "Off you trot then … but I bet he doesn't give you a warm welcome!"

Rose rolled her eyes and left the table. Malfoy didn't even look up when she sat down across from him; instead, he kept his eyes trained on _The Chudley Cannons: The Ressurection of the Glory Days_. For a moment, she forgot why she'd wandered over to him as she pondered whether or not he'd always been a Cannons fan, or whether he'd just jumped on the bandwagon when they'd rose to the top of the League two years ago. Then it seemed he could ignore her no longer and he carefully marked his page, set his book down and looked up at her expectantly, reminding her why she'd ventured over to him.

"Er … Hi," she said, realising how pathetic that sounded. "I just wanted to apologise for Lavount earlier … she was bang out of order saying what she did." _Even more pathetic_, she thought.

He seemed to think so as well, as his brow furrowed and he said, "Excuse me?"

"Um … I just wanted to apologi–"

"-I heard what you said," he cut her off, still frowning. "I'm not an idiot. What I _meant_ was, why on earth are you apologising for something you didn't do … More to the point, something that doesn't really have anything to do with you?"

Rose felt her temper increasing … He was making her feel stupid, and she didn't like to feel stupid, particularly when she was trying to offer up her kindness. "Well, what _I_ meant was, I'm sorry she was so insensitive … She knows full well that the precise reason we don't learn about the Second War is because students' families were involved … But she still asked anyway. And, I know what it's like – getting stared at and whispered about because of your parents and what they did. And I just wanted to let you know that not everyone is as tactless as Josephine Lavount …" She took in a deep breath, and felt her temper rise a little more when she noticed that Malfoy was scowling at her now. Why in God's name was he _scowling?_ She'd just sympathised with him and been kind!

"No. You don't know what it's like," he spat. "You have _no idea _what it's like – so don't tell me you do. You don't know the half of it. So don't come over here, thinking you're all chivalrous, trying a little inter-house unity or whatever it is you're playing at. I won't have it." He picked up his book again, read a few lines, then looked her square in the eyes. "I don't need your pity … Just – just leave me alone, _please_."

Rose was completely taken aback. What? She wasn't trying anything of the sort! Well … if he was going to be like _that ..._ "Fine! You want to be left alone? Fine! I'll leave you alone … But let me tell you something, Scorpius Malfoy," she placed her hands on her hips and tossed her bushy hair out of her face, just to emphasise how serious she was. "You're going to have an awfully lonely five years ahead of you if you keep shunting kind people away just because you're _afraid_ that they feel sorry for you!"

With that, she returned to Aimee, who was feverishly scrawling something across her parchment, seemingly immersed in her work … But Rose knew better, she knew her best friend would've been straining to hear every word that had passed between her and Malfoy. When she sat down in a huff and roughly pulled her books toward her, Aimee laughed. "I tried to warn you …"

Rose scowled at her. "Just, shut it, okay? _I know_. He's the biggest prat there is!" She flipped open her Potions textbook to start on their homework, still mumbling furiously, "… Can go choke on some hippogriff dung for all I care. I'm never speaking to Malfoy _ever again_! ... He can stick his pity right up his arse! ... Bet he only started liking the Cannons since they started winning ... _Pathetic_!"


	5. Chapter Four

**Author's Note: **G'day folks. I feel quite terrible; I haven't updated in donkey's years ... When I started writing this I made a vow to myself that I would try and update at least twice a week. Luckily it wasn't an Unbreakable Vow, or I wouldn't be alive to write this now. :P There _is_ an explanation … My internet wireless connection decided it hated me, so I've been waiting for that to be up and running again. Also, life in general has been getting in the way. So, apologies if that has peeved anyone, I know I get annoyed when updates aren't consistent, but hey! We can't have everything ... I don't really have anything else to say. On that note, thanks to all those who have favourited, reviewed, or are simply following this story. I appreciate it as much as I appreciate J.K. Rowling finally getting Ron and Hermione together (A LOT!). :D

p.s. This chapter was going to be about one thousand words longer, but I was having a mental block about halfway through and decided to chop it off to its current length. Also, I was feeling bad for having not updated for so long, so I just wanted to get something up for you guys to read. Okay, enough yabbering on now ... ENJOY! :D :D :D

CHAPTER FOUR

Scorpius should have been dreading a double Potions lesson with Ravenclaw; dreading seeing Rose Weasley after yesterday's debacle in the library, but that was not the case – today was the beginning of the Christmas holidays. There was absolutely nothing to dread; he would be able to walk the halls of the castle without the taunts of Mulciber and Harper, and he'd be able to sit in the library and read without having to ignore the stares and whispers, as he was now. He only hoped it would stay that way ... After yesterday's encounter with Rose Weasley, he knew that at least one of the family knew the library existed, which meant that he wouldn't be as invisible as he'd hoped to be over the holidays. He wondered, not for the first time since Rose had stormed away from him yesterday afternoon, if he had been too harsh and blunt with her. Perhaps he should have simply accepted her apology for that French twit's behaviour. Perhaps he should have thanked her for sympathising with him and said, "Finally! Someone who knows what it's like to be stared at whispered about! Do you want to be my friend?"

But he simply couldn't, if there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his honesty. And saying something like that to her would have been an outright lie. Because what he'd said to her was true – she _didn't_ know what it was like ... she _did _have no idea what it was like to be him. Sure, she, like her saint of a cousin Potter, knew how it was to be stared at and whispered about, but they didn't know what it was like to have people absolutely detest you for no other reason than your surname or your resemblance to your father. _But still_, said a voice in his head, she _was_ only trying to be kind. It wasn't like she'd tried to befriend him as if he were a lost little puppy in the street; she'd simply shown her understanding of his situation. But then ... As soon as he'd been harsh with her she'd done a three-sixty and lashed out like an angry Veela. She'd risen to her full height (which was quite considerable for a girl), jutted her hip out and flicked that mass of fuzz she calls hair out of her face to berate him. He might have been taken aback or a little bit worried she'd hex him if it weren't for how funny she looked when angry.

It was as though his thinking about her had conjured her presence, for at that moment, Scorpius looked up from his book on Greek mythology to see Rose standing a few rows of books away. She seemed stunned to see him there, and he could tell from her expression that she thought he'd gone home for the holidays. He considered going over to her and apologising for being so harsh yesterday – after all, the last thing he needed was for her to tell her cousins and for them to consequently punish him for it. The thought, however, vanished swiftly from his mind when Rose scowled at him most unpleasantly before turning around and walking back to the front of the library. _Some temper_, he thought, as he watched her fiery mass of hair bounce with every purposeful stride she took.

Perhaps Rose Weasley was as smart as everyone in their year made her out to be. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he _would_ have an awfully lonely five years ahead of him if he kept turning people away just because they felt sorry for him ... Perhaps he should try and make friends. _No_, he rebuked himself, having friends would only complicate things. And anyway, surely if there were people in this school that wanted to be friends with him without pitying him, he'd have some by now. No ... He'd stick to reading and studying and ignoring everyone and pretending that he didn't need friends, that he didn't _want_ any friends.

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><p>The Great Hall was quite empty, yet there was a ruckus fitting for a hundred students. The reason for this, of course, was that the Weasley-Potter brood were seated at the lone, long table in the Hall for dinner. Alice Longbottom was there too, chatting idly with Dominique; as were Landon Thomas and Aidan Finnigan, whispering conspiratorially with James, Freddie and Louis. It was only the first day of holidays, but Albus couldn't remember having had so much fun in one day as he had today. He'd forgotten how enjoyable it was spending time with his cousins, even if they were playing jokes on him half of the time. He'd spent the best half of the morning in the courtyard with Rob, playing chess. After that James, Freddie and Louis had found them and convinced them to play some Quidditch; the weather had been perfect – crisp blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Rob (much like Al's cousin Rose), despite his extreme enthusiasm for the sport, had refused to play, as he had a pathological fear of heights. Instead of playing, he'd sat in the stands with Rose, watching the game, reading and talking (no doubt about what they were reading).<p>

To Albus, it was like they were all at the Burrow anyway; playing chess and Quidditch all day ... Except being at Hogwarts meant that they didn't have to help clean the house or de-gnome the garden. The next two weeks would be absolute bliss ... as long as Freddie, James and Louis hadn't planned anything _too_ extravagant.

"_Oi_," James was saying, digging Al in the ribs. "Notice anything different?"

"Huh?" Al replied, wondering what the hell his brother could possibly mean, before figuring it was probably just another joke at his expense.

James paused halfway through spooning a huge heap of peas into his mouth, nodding towards the entrance to the Great Hall. "Your best friend didn't go home for the holidays."

Al rolled his eyes, not bothering to look where his brother was indicating. "_I know_, James. I _do_ share a dormitory with him, you know. He had to go to the library to return a few books before coming to dinner ... That's not really anything out of the ordinary, though."

James frowned and gulped down his probably half-chewed peas. "_No,_" he said, pointing now, "your _other_ best friend."

Albus looked, noticing the sarcasm in his brother's tone. There, at the very end of the table, with the foulest scowl on his face, was Scorpius Malfoy. He did not look the slightest bit happy to be there. Albus hadn't even known he was still at Hogwarts – which was quite bad, considering he _did _share a dormitory with the boy. Again, Al felt a wave of sympathy for him – he was completely alone; with a scowl like that, it wasn't exactly surprising. He did wonder, though, why he was still at Hogwarts. He'd gone home last year, and Al was certain that the Malfoys had not been invited to visit the Scamanders this Christmas like his parents had ... His Uncle Ron would've had a fit. Malfoy must've sensed Al and James' stares, because he turned to look at them. Albus didn't think it was possible, but Malfoy's pale face contorted further, his nose turned up as though there were a huge pile of dragon dung in front of him rather than delicious food.

Rose, having overheard the conversation between her cousins, also looked at the pale boy, and sneered rather nastily back. Albus was quite confused as to why – just last week she had been saying how sorry she felt for him, having to put up with the old prejudices of idiotic people. He told her as much, adding to it that he also felt sorry for the boy (despite his seemingly unpleasant nature), especially after yesterday's History of Magic lesson. Rose, however, only scowled further, turning her nose up just like Malfoy had.

"Yeah, well ... That was _before_ I spoke to him," she said loudly. "If you try to tell him you understand what it's like to be treated like Lavount treated him, he'll only sneer at you and say "You don't know the half of it ... I don't need your pity ..." blah blah blah. He's too stuck up his own arse to realise what genuine kindness and understanding is, even if it bit him on that _very same_ arse. _Bloody idiot!_"

"Oh," Albus replied, trying very hard not to laugh at his cousin as she stabbed her roast beef rather menacingly, still glaring over at Malfoy. There was no doubt she was a Weasley, with a temper like that. Al looked over at Malfoy again, and although he thought he was quite mean to have said such things to Rose so bluntly, he didn't think the boy was entirely wrong ... They _didn't_ know the half of it. He and Rose didn't have family who'd been on the Dark side; they weren't glared at and hated. What Albus didn't understand, however, was why Malfoy was so afraid to accept people's genuine kindness ... He seemed to have no trouble accepting it from the likes of Mulciber and Harper, who were notorious bullies, so why not accept a little compassion from someone who didn't have a secret agenda?

He was on the point of saying this to Rose, who he was sure should be emitting steam from her ears by now, when Rob joined the table.

"Sir Robert Nott! How I do welcome thee to our most splendid banquet this winter eve! Please, sir, take a seat, join us in our celebrations! As part of said celebrations, I offer up to you our fairest maiden ... a _Rose_ amongst the weeds of Weasleys." This came from Freddie, who was standing on the seat and making sweeping hand gestures. Despite his speech making no sense whatsoever, Rose immediately flushed scarlet, Rob likewise. It wasn't uncommon for the family to tease Rob and Rose about liking each other, even if in a completely nonsensical manner; it was quickly becoming something of a Weasley pastime. Rob sat down next to him, carefully avoiding Rose's gaze, and Al couldn't help but erupt with laughter, his thoughts of Malfoy long forgotten.


	6. Chapter Five

**Author's Note:** This chapter is a little longer than the others ... Probably because it's in Scorp's POV; he always seems to have a lot of thoughts and just drags out chapters ... So bear with me if it gets a bit boring, hopefully it doesn't. There probably won't be many more chapters in this story, as it was simply intended to be a short fic about the formation of Al and Scorp's friendship, rather than any adventures they might have. Anyway, thanks again to all those who've reviewed, put this story on alert, favourited, or have simply read this. I appreciate it greatly. :D

ENJOY! :D

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><p>CHAPTER FIVE<p>

Since dinner on Friday night, Scorpius had had great success in avoiding the Weasleys, Potters and their friends. He'd been leaving the dormitory at around six each morning, having a rather early breakfast, then he'd head to old, unused classrooms for the day, as he knew that the Weasleys and Potters were very much outdoors-y people – with the exception of Rose. He couldn't visit the library as much as he'd thought he'd be able to because he didn't want to risk running into Rose again, or Albus, who was often with her. Today, however, he didn't care. After three days of skilfully avoiding all other habitants of the castle, Scorpius decided it was enough – he shouldn't have to avoid them – if they had a problem with him, they could either keep glaring at him, or confront him about it. He'd done nothing wrong.

It was with this attitude that he'd returned to the Slytherin Common Room and sat in the most comfortable looking armchair near the fire – the armchair he could never usually sit in because it would draw far too much attention to him. For a few hours he sat reading without disturbance, completely immersed in the thick volume of Greek Mythology, before he was interrupted. He was pulled from the tales of Pandora by the sound of halting footsteps and voices. His head snapped up and there, standing with expressions of shock, were Albus Potter and Robert Nott. For a few moments, they simply stared back at him ... Evidently they hadn't been expecting to see anyone back in the Common Room. Then, Potter said rather awkwardly, "Er ... Hi Scorpius."

_Scorpius?_ Since when had anyone other than his parents called him by his first name? Not even the teachers called him Scorpius; it was always "Mr. Malfoy" ... Except Professor Longbottom, he had a habit of calling the students by their first names... probably because he knew half of their parents. Scorpius considered scowling and being rude to Potter, simply because he'd stared at him the other night, and had undoubtedly had a good old discussion about him with his cousin Rose. But he didn't, if Potter was going to confront him about anything, it wouldn't be his rudeness. He'd never been rude to Potter; he wasn't going to start now. So, he offered him the same level of courtesy. "Hello Albus ... Robert," he added, nodding at Potter's best friend and shadow.

Scorpius turned backed to his book, thinking they would pass through to the dormitories. He looked up again in surprise, however, when he heard the distinct creak of leather – Potter and Nott had sat down in the armchairs opposite him. He didn't say anything; if they were going to bother him _they'd_ initiate the conversation, not him.

Potter looked around for a while, seemingly thinking his words over, before he blurted out, "So ... How come you were so mean to my cousin the other day?"

Scorpius sneered. "I knew you couldn't have been saying 'hi' to me just for the sake of it ... just out of common courtesy ... And as for your cousin, I've no idea what you're talking about." He very obviously returned to his book, no longer willing to give Potter the benefit of the doubt. He was just here to have a go at him – well, Scorpius wouldn't have it, especially when he was about two paragraphs away from discovery what exactly was in Pandora's box.

Potter, on the other hand, was unrelenting. "I think you do," he said, rather calmly in Scorpius' opinion, considering he'd just ignored him. This only served to annoy him more.

"Alright ... To which cousin do you refer? God knows they populate half the school."

Potter remained calm, and much to Scorpius' annoyance, he smirked. "I reckon that's a bit of an exaggeration ... But I see your point. And you _know_ I'm talking about Rose, she told me about your argument in the library."

Scorpius rolled his eyes ... How predictable. "I _knew_ she'd tattle on me to one of you. Look, I didn't say anything mean to her at all ...And if she told you the truth then you'd know that. I was just being honest. If she can't handle honesty, then tell her to stay away from me. In fact, do me a favour and tell her that anyway. Like I told your cousin, I don't need anyone's pity, alright? Can I get back to my reading now?"

"No," Potter said firmly, evidently he wasn't as calm as he'd made out. "No, you can't. She didn't talk to you because she pitied you ..." when Scorpius raised his eyebrows, Potter said, "Well, maybe a little. _But_ there's a bit of a difference between pity and empathy, you know. She was only trying to tell you that she understands how it is ... She was only being kind. You didn't have to be so blunt about it."

Scorpius was fed up now. He dropped his book to the floor in anger. "But that's just the thing. You and your cousins, everyone else, none of you get it. You think you do ..." Potter made to say something, but Scorpius cut him off. "Yeah, you know what it's like to have people stare at you, to have them whisper about you, maybe point at you. _Big deal_. They do it out of admiration, in _awe_. But have you ever had a stranger come up and spit on your father in the street? _Have you?_" He could feel the heat in his face; he'd never been so angry. Not even when his grandfather tried to shove the old beliefs down his throat. Potter didn't say anything, he looked completely dumfounded. "_See?_ See ... you don't, do you? No, of course you don't, because _you don't know what it's like._ You _don't understand_. So don't try to pretend that you do, don't defend you dear cousin. I was being honest. _No-one_ knows what it's like. So just _leave me alone_."

Scorpius, feeling that Potter couldn't possibly have anything else to say, picked up his book and once again began to read. But, he wasn't really reading, only staring at the words. He was far too furious to read. He knew that perhaps Potter was only trying to be kind and understanding, but right now it just felt as though he was meddling, prying without reason.

"Albus might not know what it's like, _but I do_."

Scorpius, in his fury with Potter, had completely forgotten that Nott was even there. He looked at the boy blankly, completely shocked by his defiant tone. He scowled at him. "_What?"_

The usually timid boy stared back, his expression as defiant as his voice, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "I said – Albus and his family might not know what it's like, but _I do_. You said 'no-one' understands what it's like to be in your situation ... _But I do._"

Scorpius didn't want to go through the same conversation again ... He just wanted to be left alone. He didn't want to be unkind, but if that's what it took to get them to leave him alone, then he'd be outright unpleasant. "No ... No, you don't. You can't. Just, leave it, okay? I don't want to have this argument again. You –"

"_No_. I won't 'just leave it'," Nott cut him off angrily; Scorpius was shocked into silence. "You think you're the only one who has to deal with unreasonable hatred? You think you're the only one who's ever had their family members spat on, insulted publicly, _disgraced_? Well, come down off of your high horse, _Malfoy_, because you're not." His face was bright red with anger and his eyes were flashing dangerously. Scorpius was in complete shock ... He had no idea. He knew that Nott's grandfather was a Death Eater as well, but his family had never played a significant part in the Second War ... And his father had certainly never delved into the Dark Arts like his had done.

"Nott, I didn't ... I thought ... I –" he spluttered, and was glad when Nott cut him off, because he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say anyway.

"No, Malfoy, you _didn't_ think ... I don't even know my own grandparents because my father is afraid that Grandfather will try and teach me Dark Magic. And I get picked on, bashed, insulted by Mulciber and Harper because my father's a 'blood traitor' and married a 'mudblood'. So _don't you dare_ try and say that _no-one_ knows what it's like when you're friends with the very same people that make damn well sure I _do_ know what it's like."

Scorpius opened his mouth to say something – anything – to Robert Nott. He had no idea that Mulciber and Harper picked on him as well ... He had no idea that he'd suffered as much as he had ... Now he knew why the boy was so quiet. Before he could say something, however, Nott gave him a lasting sneer and stormed out of the Common Room. Potter got up and called after him, but Nott only muttered "Just leave me alone, Al," and continued on his way out.

Potter sat back in his seat, glaring at him. Scorpius felt his face grow hot as his guilt overwhelmed him. Rose Weasley was not 'perhaps' right, she was 'definitely' right ... He did just keep pushing people away. He was on a high horse. He was an idiot.

"Albus ..." he said. "I didn't – I didn't know ... I mean," he back-peddled, seeing Potter's disbelieving expression. "I _knew_ about – about his grandfather ... But I didn't know ..."

Potter cut him off. "I trust you know that Rob doesn't talk much ... I hope you realise how much you upset him. He never talks about his family, not to me, not to anyone." For a few seconds he was silent, and Scorpius thought he was going to storm out like his friend had. Then he slapped his hands down on the arms of his chair frustration. "I just don't get you, Scorpius! You don't want anyone to pity you or hate you because of your family, but you won't accept empathy. Rosie was right, you _are _going to have an awfully lonely five years ahead of you in this place ... Especially if you keep hanging out with Mulciber and Harper ... How can you stand to be around them, anyway?"

That was it. What in the world had made Potter believe that he was friends with them? He stood up in an explosion of anger. "_I'm not friends with them!_ I don't _like_ them ... I don't hang around them ... _They_ hand around _me!_"

Potter didn't look convinced. "But ... That's kind of the same thing, really ..."

"No! No, it's not, Potter!" he shouted, dispelling his previous courtesy of calling him Albus. "They don't hang around me because they're my friends, they hand around me because they hate me, loathe me and want to beat me up and taunt me every chance they get." Potter said nothing, so Scorpius continued in his tirade. "You think they're _happy_ that my father and grandfather didn't end up in Azkaban like theirs did? You think that makes them want to _hang out _with me? No! Of course not! They _hate _it ... _hate me_ ... Because my family had wealth behind them, because my father can still work at the Ministry ... I get it, alright, I'm not the only one who has issues ... I'm not the only one who has to deal with this – this crap ... And I'm sorry for upsetting Nott. But I just – I just don't want people to be my friends because they feel sorry for me ... I want people to be friends with me because they like _me ..._"

Scorpius realised that he'd let his anger get the better of him ... He'd said things he shouldn't have. He shouldn't have told Potter that, he should've just left ... Now Potter was sure to pity him. Once again, he'd made an idiot of himself. He should've kept avoiding them all, he shouldn't have let his own stupid pride and defiance get in the way ... Then he wouldn't have to deal with situations like this, then he could've continued on with his life pretending that he didn't care; he could've remained unnoticed until he'd left school.

Potter looked at him blankly, it was clear he hadn't been expecting Scorpius to say what he had. After a few moments he collected himself. " Scorpius ... You can't really expect people to be friends with you if you don't give them a chance ... I mean, you just shut people out because straight away you think they pity you ... How is anyone supposed to like _you_, if you don't let them?"

He didn't know what he'd expected him to say ... But it certainly wasn't that. He couldn't understand why Potter was still being calm and nice after he'd just lashed out at him. Maybe he could give _Potter _a chance ... Maybe he could try and be friends with him. But ... Surely that wasn't why Potter was being nice to him ... It _couldn't_ be why ... He was a _Potter_, he wouldn't want to be friends with a Malfoy.

"I don't know," he said, avoiding Potter's staid and expectant stare. "I don't know, Albus. I really don't. I just hate the fact that the people who don't hate me just pity me ... They don't really want to be friends with me. They're nice to me, sure ... But they never get past saying 'Listen, it must be hard ...' or just telling me they're sorry because someone insulted my family and it was completely out of line; like your cousin did the other day. No-one's ever just come up to me and said, 'Hey, do you like Quidditch? What's your favourite team?' or 'Hey, do you want to play a game of chess?' They don't even ask me to pass them the gravy at dinner. Not even you ... We're in the same house, the same year, we _share a dormitory_ and you've never gone past saying 'Malfoy' and nodding at me."

Scorpius hadn't meant to sound like he was blaming Potter for not trying to befriend him. He knew it was because he'd never wanted friends, but he was simply trying to point out that if someone had seemed genuinely interested in something about him other than how hard it must be to be a Malfoy, he might've tried being their friend. But he knew that's how he'd come across – accusing.

This was confirmed when the black-haired boy spoke again. "Er – Scorpius," he said. "I ... I don't mean to offend you, but you've never exactly asked anyone any of those things either." When Scorpius frowned, knowing Potter was right, the other boy must have mistaken it for confusion, because he continued. "What I mean to say is; if I'd known you wanted to play a game of chess, if I'd known that you _weren't_ actually friends with Harper and Mulciber ... I might've talked to you more ...I might've asked you to pass me the gravy at dinner."

Scorpius couldn't help but laugh when Potter grinned at him; something he had never done earnestly with another student since being at Hogwarts. Could he really be friends with a Potter?

"Potter, can I ask you something?" He had to know ...

Potter's grin fell. "Only if you stop calling me 'Potter' ... There's a reason my parents gave me a first name, you know."

Scorpius half smiled before his face turned serious. "Okay, _Albus_. Are you just being nice because you feel sorry for me?"

Potter, _no – Albus_, he thought, looked as though he was trying to figure out how to answer the question and Scorpius knew the answer was yes. He knew it was because he looked a little guilty.

"Honestly? Yes," he said. But before Scorpius could spit out an "_I knew it,_" Albus continued. "But who cares? I feel sorry for you ... I sympathise with you because you have no friends, you're bullied and you're an idiot. So what?"

Was that supposed to make him feel better? "_I_ care ..." he said, before taking in all of Albus' speech. "And how am I an idiot?" he asked angrily.

Albus rolled his eyes. "_How_? I'll tell you ... You turn people's kindness away because you _think_ they feel sorry for you ... Then you accuse them of making no attempt to be friendly, when it's your fault that don't, due to your massive lack of self-esteem."

Scorpius spluttered, pointing angrily down at Albus. "I don't do that! And I don't lack self-esteem! ...You're mad."

"_Are you listening to yourself_? You haven't got a leg to stand on, and you know it." Scorpius opened his mouth to retort, but Albus cut him off. "Look, you don't want anyone to pity you, fine. Do you want to be friends or not?"

His face swiftly morphed from anger and indignation to complete and utter disbelief at Albus' straightforwardness. "_What?_"

"I said, do you want to be friends or not?"

"What? Just like that? Just – poof! – and we're friends?" Albus didn't say anything. Scorpius waited for him to answer, staring him down expectantly. "Sweet-Merlin-you're-serious, aren't you?" he blurted.

"No ... That's actually my _brother's_ middle name ... I'm Albus. But yes, I'm _serious_," came the smart reply.

Scorpius scowled at the joke. He didn't know why he kept protesting ... But he couldn't quite grasp that it was that easy ... That Albus Potter would just ask him if he wanted to be friends and all he had to do was say yes and that was it. They'd be friends...

"But, we don't even know each other ... Sure, I know that you're Albus Potter, son of Harry Potter – _C hosen One, Boy Who Lived_ – and Ginny Weasley, Chaser for the Harpies for several years, but that's it."

"_That's the point of making friends, Scorpius_," Albus said in exasperation. "What? You think that everyone's just born with friends and automatically know things about each other?"

Perhaps he just had to throw caution to the winds ... Perhaps Albus had a point and perhaps it was a simple as someone asking him if he wanted to be friends and him simply replying in the affirmative. He smirked. Friends made jokes with one another, so why not start with that? "And ,what? You think that everyone's just born with excellent social skills?"

Albus half smiled, feigning shock. "Huh ... A joke ... You're not as much of an idiot as you were two seconds ago –"

" – _Thanks_._"_

"– So, I ask again, do you want to be friends, or not? Otherwise ... I'm going to go and find Rob, tell him that you're an idiot, and go back to muttering 'Malfoy' and nodding at you when we pass each other in corridors."

Scorpius had thought that him conceding to making jokes with him had made it obvious that he was willing to give this friends thing a go ... Even if he was a little doubtful about how it would turn out. Especially when one took into consideration that he'd offended Nott earlier ... Who was Albus' best friend. With that in mind he said, "Okay, sure ... But how about I go with you to find Nott?"

"Er – why?"

"So that I can tell him myself that I'm an idiot ... Then I can apologise for earlier ... Then maybe one of you can ask me if I like Quidditch and which team I support?" he added hopefully, trying to maintain the light-hearted nature their conversation had taken on.

Albus laughed as he made his way to the Common Room exit. "Okay ..." he said, calling over his shoulder at the door, "But there're two other things you have to deal with first."

Scorpius halted and Al turned around to look at him questioningly. "What?" said Scorpius, a little apprehensively.

Albus was smirking ... And Scorpius became a little more worried. Maybe this was some huge joke or something and he had to do something ridiculous and humiliating. But then, Albus said, "One – you have to stop calling us by our surnames ..." He nodded – that was fair enough, he certainly didn't like being addressed 'Malfoy' all the time. "And two," he continued, grinning broadly, "You're going to have to apologise to Rose as well, seeing how she's my favourite cousin."

Scorpius blanched. _She would be_. "Ah ... Rose ... She's a bit –"

" – Bad-tempered, huffy, bitchy, unforgiving, stubborn like a troll, yet always, _always_ completely and annoyingly right about everything?" Al said.

"Well ... I was just going to say bad-tempered and stubborn ... But yeah. What you said kind of works too."

Albus laughed again, climbing the dungeon stairs. "Still want to be friends with me?"

Scorpius laughed too now. He was sure he could take on Rose Weasley ... Maybe. However angry Rose and Robert Nott were with him, no matter how badly Albus' family reacted to him being friends with Scorpius, no matter if he decided that Albus was a complete twat or Albus decided the same about him ... Being at Hogwarts still beat being at his grandparents' place for Christmas. "I think so ..."He said, when Albus repeated the question. "Rose might be bad-tempered, stubborn and always right ... But she's nothing compared to Grandfather."

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><p><strong>AN:** p.s. I hope it didn't feel like I just went BAM! - an argument, a few emotional revelations and they're friends. I tried to make it as rocky a path as I could in one chap ... I simply didn't want it to drag on forever (I save the 'getting together' dragging-on plots for romance fics, not friendship fics! :P ). Let me know what you think. Also, I hope it wasn't a shite ending ... I felt like I kinda just left it hangin'. But, ah well ... Nothing's perfect, eh?

Thanks again for reading!


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